Warming to my topic, I said more than he might have wanted to hear. “We believe what we do is important. And we do this for everyone, whether or not they deserve our help, because we decided long ago we wouldn’t stand in judgment.”
Blackford nodded. “I can understand that for some unfortunate wreck, some light skirt, but not for Nicholas Drake. He destroys people.”
“Who has he destroyed?”
He stared into my eyes. I could feel anger and hatred flowing toward me. I stared back, but he didn’t blink or turn away.
We were served the next course. I faced Naylard with only half my attention as he plunged into a long explanation of how his steward figured out what was wrong with one of his mares. What I really wanted to do was ignore the rules of etiquette and question Blackford further about Drake.
I glanced across the table at Naylard’s sister. Lucinda barely touched any of her food and paid little attention to what Inspector Grantham said to her. “Milord,” I broke in, “is your sister quite well? She’s barely touched her dinner and looks quite pale.”
“She doesn’t believe in eating much or wearing jewelry or anything but praying.”
“Is she heartbroken over a man?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course. I don’t know anyone in society to tell anything to, except for Lady Westover, and I won’t tell her. I promise.”
“My sister wants to live in a convent, except she can’t, because she’s got to take care of me. I’d destroy myself and end up in a gutter somewhere if she didn’t take care of things for me.”
I looked into his guileless eyes and unfurrowed brow and said, “You’re lucky to have her.”
“I know. She can’t leave me. She’s always watched over me.”
No one could blackmail Naylard. But someone could blackmail his sister if it meant keeping her brother safe.
The ices arrived, and I turned back to the duke. He said, “Have you had any luck finding Drake?”
“Not at all. But we won’t give up.”
“Wonderful,” he muttered.
“Why did you say Drake destroys people?”
“I have the misfortune to have met him, and I’ve seen him ruin lives. I won’t give you details because it’s ungentlemanly to divulge other people’s secrets, so don’t ask me.”
While I tried to think of another line of questioning, I tasted the ice. In an instant, I was savoring sweet and cold mixed with the flavor of bits of strawberry. Where had Lady Westover’s cook found strawberries at this time of year? I didn’t care if the berries were grown in a glasshouse or shipped in from Africa, I fell under their spell. The chill on my tongue made the fruit even more honeyed and almost made me miss the duke’s next words.
“I didn’t know something as simple as an ice could make a determined young woman like you melt.”
Jerking my head to the side, the spoon still on my lips, I caught the laughter in the duke’s eyes. I had a task to accomplish. I regretfully set down my spoon and said, “Is there anyone else who might be blackmailed by Nicholas Drake?”
“Not that I know of.” His expression turned serious. “Have you considered this might be dangerous?”
“Yes. This wouldn’t be my first investigation that involved ruffians.” The worst ruffian of all was the first. He looked like a gentleman, but he’d killed my parents and possibly Denis Lupton for possession of a Bible. And I still hadn’t found him.
Unaware of where my thoughts had traveled, the duke said, “Drake can’t pay you for your efforts on his behalf. Even if he could, he wouldn’t.”
There was a little left in my crystal cup and I was enjoying the last spoonful, only half listening to the duke’s words. Then I turned to face him and felt my eyes widen at the intense way he was staring at me. I was immediately on my guard. “Sometimes we’re paid for our efforts. The rest can be considered charity if you wish.”
He leaned forward slightly and stared into my eyes. “Be careful Drake doesn’t destroy you in your efforts to help him.”
“Ladies, if you come with me to the parlor, the men can rejoin us later.” Lady Westover stood and led the way out of the dining room. I followed, wondering whether it was Victoria Dutton-Cox or Blackford’s sister who had been destroyed by Drake. And I felt decidedly uneasy about the unfathomable look the duke had given me.
When we reached the plant-filled parlor, Lucinda Naylard and Daisy Hancock chose opposite sides of the room. I decided to follow Daisy, who had settled on a sofa close to the only warm spot in the room, in front of the fire. Pushing aside the leaf of a rubber plant, I asked, “How did you enjoy your first season?”
The girl brightened. “It was everything I had hoped for and more. I danced every dance at every ball. I wore beautiful gowns and flirted with handsome men. There’s nothing in the world as exciting and glittery. I can’t wait for spring when it starts over again.”
“But surely you’ll marry soon and have other important duties to fulfill.”
Daisy looked at me as if I had just spouted blasphemy. “My uncle says I must choose a husband this year and get married, but I want to enjoy this two more times at least. I don’t think three seasons will qualify me as a spinster, do you? There’s nothing more fun than shopping for clothes and going to balls and seeing old friends.”
“It sounds wonderful,” I said. If my doubt showed in my tone, Daisy didn’t notice.
“My uncle says I need to find a husband this year or I’ll end up like her,” she said in a hissing whisper as she nodded toward Lucinda.
When I glanced over, Lucinda sat alone. She appeared to be praying. Lord Hancock needn’t worry. Daisy would never be like Lucinda.
Inspector Grantham came into the room. “Grandmama, I’m sorry, but I must leave now. I’ve been called back to Scotland Yard.”
“You work too hard, Eddy,” she said as she kissed his cheek.
“Cousin Georgia, I’ll speak to you later. Ladies.” The inspector gave the room a bow and hurried away.
The other gentlemen joined us a short while later. Lucinda immediately pulled her brother into a corner and whispered in his ear. Coffee was served and Daisy gave Blackford a flirtatious look. He walked as far from her as he could, ending up by the window draperies, and set his coffee cup on a lace-covered table. “I don’t think he likes girls,” Daisy whispered to me.
“Perhaps he prefers women,” I whispered back.
Daisy looked around the room with a pout. Her uncle, who’d cornered the duke in close conversation, wore a similar expression.
Lady Westover came over to join us, and I took the opportunity to say, “So, you’ve known each other a long time.”
“I was godmother to Daisy’s mother. After her death, I’ve tried to look after Daisy,” Lady Westover said. “Lord Hancock has never married, and I thought a woman’s touch would be helpful. I’m afraid I’ve been remiss in my duty to you, young lady.”
Daisy gave a weak smile in reply. Her gaze darted as if she were looking for an escape from her hostess.
“You lost both your parents at a young age?” I asked. I had been seventeen when both of my parents were murdered. I understood her loss.
“My eleventh birthday. I was allowed to eat with my parents in the big dining room, and by the next day, both of them were dead.”
“What happened to them?”
“Typhoid. Bad seafood. Something they ate. I don’t know. I didn’t like the strange foods served at adult dinners and refused to touch most of the dishes. I still don’t eat seafood or spinach or asparagus.” Daisy looked past me and smiled brightly.